


Culinary Crisis

by EvilDime



Category: Captain America (Movies), Check Please! (Webcomic), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Alternate Universe - Bakery, Fluff, M/M, Sam Wilson Can Talk to Birds
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-06-21
Updated: 2019-06-21
Packaged: 2020-05-15 22:36:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,493
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19305223
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EvilDime/pseuds/EvilDime
Summary: Now that Sam's an Avenger, Riri needs a new partner forTout de Sweet.Luckily, there's a young vlogger currently looking for a job in the greater New York area.This is a sequel to mrs_d's hilarious fic "Bird Set Free", in which Steve is transformed into a finch and Sam can talk to birds - and also has a bakery.





	Culinary Crisis

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Bird Set Free](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16224200) by [mrs_d](https://archiveofourown.org/users/mrs_d/pseuds/mrs_d). 



> For once, I'm not crashing in on someone else's work to write a 'fix-it' fic. "Bird Set Free" had a perfect ending already (and if you haven't read that fic yet - what are you waiting for?). But there was a note in the comments that got me thinking, and the next day I woke up and wrote this. It's not beta-ed. If you find any mistakes, please let me know and I'll go back and fix it.

"You all know the situation is dire," the man began, looking around the small, but varied group of people. "Our supplier can no longer keep us well-stocked, and it is only a matter of time until their business will need to close down."

Several people made noises of anger or distress.

"After their partner's abrupt change of careers, our sole point of contact is overworked and can no longer be counted on to deliver. Sure, the old partner still helps out whenever his new job allows, but those windows are fading fast. The time until they need to shut down or drastically reduce their services is now counted in days rather than months."

Meeting each of the men and women's eyes in turn, Luke posed the question for which he had brought them all to this empty factory hall at one in the morning: "What, then, can we do to save Tout de Sweet?"

Spiderman looked back at him with such a sad, hang-dog expression that it showed even through his mask. "No more blueberry muffins," he murmured sadly, but the young hero seemed to be fresh out of ideas.

"Don't look at me," Deadpool said, "I like my new job."

"Your croissants were never as good as Sam's, anyway," the Punisher jeered.

"Did you really just say that?" Deadpool asked, then addressed the audience, saying: "He did, didn't he?"

[Sure did,] one of his voices answered gleefully.

[Let's not do anything rash,] the other cautioned.

Habitually ignoring the latter voice, Deadpool drew both his katanas with a high _zing._ "Wanna take that outside, you loser?"

"Hush, you," Jessica admonished with a frown. "This is a serious matter. Our supply of beautiful baked goods depends on our cooperation."

"Cooperation?" Deadpool laughed. "Me, and that fucker who slights my croissants?"

Luke sighed. "Take it outside," he allowed.

"Yay," Deadpool yelled, prancing out the door like a pre-schooler promised a lollipop. The Punisher shot a mildly anxious glance at Daredevil, but then followed quickly. A few sounds of manly posturing and some immature threats could be heard, then the door fell shut behind the two killers. 

"...I am unsure inhowfar this concerns me," Daredevil ventured. 

Jessica laughed. "Where do you think your partner always gets the pastries for your breaks?"

Startled, Daredevil turned toward her. "How do you know...?"

Jessica grinned at him. " Nelson and I sometimes stand in line next to each other in the mornings.  Trust me, your  _strictly platonic_ best friend would be devastated if Tout de Sweet had to close down."

"Huh," was all Daredevil had to say about that.

Luke sighed. "Alright, so does anyone have a productive contribution?"

Silence answered him.

"Well..." Iron Fist started, and all heads turned toward him. "Why don't we ask Riri herself if she  knows of any prospective partners? After all, she's the one who would have to work with them day in and day out.  If she has  a good pastry chef in mind, we could help her make it happen."

Jessica looked at him quizzically. "That... is a surprisingly good idea."

Iron Fist pouted.

Luke sighed. Sometimes he asked himself why he ever bothered to contact these people at all. Being a vigilante on his own would be so much more peaceful. Still, he had no better ideas himself, so asking Riri it was.

* * *

Pepper marched into the Avengers living room with brisk steps, heels clacking ominously on the smooth tiles. When she arrived at the sofa Tony was lounging on, she stopped merely a foot or so in front of him, looming like an angry hawk.

"Tony," Pepper began, and she had that look that said 'You better listen to me closely or there will be dire consequences.' "Would you please explain to me why we are buying an _Ice Hockey team?"_

Oh, that.

"I felt Stark Industries needs a more varied image," Tony said, waving a hand negligently. "Race cars are all nice and good, but I hear winter sports are all _en vogue_ these days."

Then, with a wicked grin toward Sam and Steve,  he added: "Besides, with the recent addition to our team, I felt that getting a few  _Falconers_ on hand would be a smart move."

While Sam groaned  and buried his head in his hands - mission achieved! -, Steve sat up, looking at Tony with wide eyes. "You are relocating a Hockey Team just for the sake of a bad pun?!"

Tony shrugged.  "You know me:  Genius, playboy, philanthropist -"

"Yeah, heard it all before, thanks," Steve cut him off.  "But have you given any thoughts to the lives of those players? They all need to break ties if they move  that far south. What about their families, their hobbies, their community?"

Tony answered him with a flat stare. "I'm paying them nearly 150% of what they were making before. Trust me, they will  survive the move."

"Yeah, but..." There was still an unhappy twist around Steve's mouth, but he seemed to be running out of arguments fast.

Sam laid a hand on his friend's shoulder. "Come on, Steve. Let him have his fun.  It's actually kind of nice, isn't it?  We can cheer for  _The Falconers_ now. I know you still mourn the loss of the  Dodgers and the  Giants,  but how about we go and take in a hockey game sometime? Maybe these guys can be someone for you to cheer on. They are pretty high up in the league these days, and I have to admit, the  name's kind of nice." He grinned widely, his rabbit teeth showing.

Tony suppressed a snicker at the love-struck look on Steve's face.  Those two were so  precious.

Luckily, Sam had managed to distract Steve before the man could smell a rat.  He was usually pretty good at figuring out when Tony was lying through his teeth, but since Sam had joined the team, he'd been rather... distracted. 

Tony was not above taking advantage of that.  After all, the Avengers didn't need to know that Tony had  mainly bought that team as a favor to a  couple of acquaintances who,  admittedly, never got pay nor recognition for all the help they provided the  Avengers on occasion.  If the Defenders wanted the Falconers  plus company in New York  for  their own purposes, who was Tony to stand in their way?

* * *

Jack entered the apartment quietly, softly pushing the door closed. He didn't want to avoid Bitty, but if he could stave off the inevitable discussion for a few more minutes... He did not look forward to telling Bitty his news.

"I don't get google analytics," Bitty's morose voice greeted Jack the moment he set foot into the living room. Sounded like Bitty had some troubles of his own. 

Jack readily jumped on the diversion.  "Nobody does. Maybe not even the designers,"  he commented.  Walking over to the desk, he leaned on the back of Bitty's chair and peered at the computer screen across the smaller man's shoulder. "What has you so out of sorts, love?"

"It's just that ad that keeps popping up wherever I turn," Bitty complained. "Facebook, youtube, Instagram - wherever I go, there's this ad. And I get why google might think I am interested in a vacancy in a confiserie. Oh boy, am I ever! But  this one is in New York City! I am not ready to go back to a long distance relationship with you when we just moved in together.  Besides,  how can a small bakery afford  that level of advertisement? I feel like google is mocking me!"

Jack was stunned. "Did you... did you just say New York City?"

"You sound happy about that," Bitty said accusingly. "Do you  _want_ me to live three hours away from you?"

"N-no, of course not!" Jack stumbled over his own tongue in his haste to reassure his partner. "But Bitty - the Falconers have  just  been bought by Stark Industries. We are moving to New York!"

Bitty turned around in his chair, staring at Jack open-mouthed. Then he jumped up and tackled Jack to the sofa. "We're going to New York!!!"

Laughing, Jack wrapped his arms around Bitty. "I thought you'd be  angry, since we just got through with our move,  and now we have to move again."

"I might have been," Bitty admitted. "But Jack, there's that ad, and what if it isn't a hoax?  That little  bakery seems quite popular in the neighborhood, people have nothing but praise for it online. You'll like it, the name is a pun on French. And oh, their selection looks just  _gorgeous!"_

Jack raised his head a little to look into Bittle's eyes. He smiled at the star-struck look in them. Bitty was totally in love with that Bakery already.

"I just..." The light in the dark eyes dimmed. "What if I don't get the job?"

"Then they are stupid and don't deserve you, and you'll just have to open your own bakery," Jack said matter-of-factly. "Bitty, you are the best pastry chef I know. Of course they will take you. Now apply already!"

"Thanks, Jack," Bitty said, pulling Jack's face closer for a soft kiss. "I love you."

"Love you too, Bits."

* * *

Sam's teeth were rattled by a piercing shriek from the back room. Dropping the tray of muffins back on the table, Sam ran through to help whichever way he could. But to his surprise, Riri was unharmed, there was not a glimpse of Loki or any other enemy but Riri's laptop, which she was clutching in a white-knuckled grip while bouncing on her sitting ball like a demented squirrel.

Doreen had some very peculiar acquaintances, Sam felt he wasn't overreaching with that comparison.

"What is it, lil' sister?" he asked, cautiously approaching the rabid female.

Riri turned around, staring up at him from wide-open, shocked eyes. "Eric Bittle applied to be my partner!"

"Uh," Sam said, "that's... good?"

"Good?" Riri shrieked, making Sam gnash his teeth to stop them from rattling again. "Good?! That's all you have to say? The Master of Pies applies to our bakery, and all you can say is 'good'?"

"Uh," Sam commented lamely, "say what now?"

"Eric Bittle," Riri explained, talking slowly and using small words to explain to the less gifted kids in the class, "has a vlog. He vlogs about his baking and ice hockey. I have been a fan from the very first post. That recipe for our raspberry pie the old lady across the street can't get enough of? All his. The inspiration for doing themed cupcakes for major sports events? His vlog. And you know how well those sold. Sam," she said, imploringly, "I have been dreaming of someone like Bittle showing up here from the moment you said you were quitting. This is like the best day of my life!"

Lowering her head and looking up at him coyly through her lashes, she added: "Also, he's openly gay and living with a butch hockey player. So you don't need to fear for my virtue, and he's totally the right person to continue your legacy."

"You little shit," Sam said affectionately, ruffling Riri's dark locks. "Alright, I'll consider him. But if he doesn't pass my test, we need to talk about this."

Riri openly laughed at him. "Sam, be glad if _you_ measure up to _his_ standards!"

"Oi!"  Sam mock-pounced at her and Riri dropped them both on the floor where they proceeded to roll around in a time-honored tradition established by siblings around the world. 

Things were definitely looking up for Tout de Sweet. 

* * *

"Jack," Bitty said the next morning, staring at his screen forlornly as Jack entered the living room. 

"Yes, Bits?" Jack  replied  a bit absently, adjusting his tie and once more flattening his hair. They had an important presser today, trying to sell their fans on the idea that a second New York-based hockey team wasn't a bad thing. 

"I have been invited to a bake-off at Avengers Tower."

Jack blinked slowly, digesting the sentence as he ran it through his mind a couple of times, still coming up blank at the end of the exercise. "Huh?!"

* * *

Two days later, a ball of bouncing, nervous energy with blond hair and a fashionable man purse arrived at 4 Times Square and hesitantly approached the front desk. 

"Uh, I'm sorry, Ma'am," the bouncing tween said, "my name is Eric Bittle and I..."

"Welcome, Mister Bittle," the receptionist said. "Mister Stark told us to expect you. Please go right up. Take the elevator on the far right, push the third button from the top."

"Th-thank you?" Bitty said, completely taken aback by these signs that this really might not be a hoax. He'd come here fully prepared to be thrown out arse-over-teakettle when he claimed to be here for a _bake-off_ at _Avengers Tower._ But, apparently not. 

Huh. 

Bitty slowly approached the elevator, still waiting for someone to stop him and tell him it was all a prank, after all.  The door looked different from the others, and it had "Private - Authorized personnel only" stamped across it in bold, red letters.  But he reached the elevator without hindrance and  the doors opened and closed for him without issue.  Bitty hesitantly pushed the button that read "Shared Living Space"  and the elevator began to slowly crawl upward.

"Good morning, Sir," a voice greeted him from a speaker set in the ceiling. 

Turning his face up, Bitty replied: "Uh, good morning."

"My name is JARVIS, I am the AI in charge of this building," the voice introduced itself. 

"Uh, hi JARVIS, I'm Eric Bittle," Bitty said, unsure of the proper protocol when dealing with an AI.  "I... I hope I'm not doing anything wrong?"

"Quite the contrary," the artificial voice reassured him in its strangely British accent. "You are a most welcome guest. Everyone is looking forward to the results of your bake-off with Mister Wilson.  Also, allow me to extend my gratitude for following my invitation."

"Your...?"

"I was the one to promote  _Tout de Sweet_ to you," JARVIS explained. 

Bitty gulped. "You... hacked my computer and shoved that ad at me?"

"I made sure you were aware of the vacancy," JARVIS neatly side-stepped the question.  "I hope you approve."

"I... I mean, the bakery sounds great, but  the invasion of my privacy is a bit ... Uh. Why me? And why Avengers Tower?!"

Luckily for the confused man, JARVIS deigned to give a more satisfactory answer to this question. "Tout de Sweet used to be run by two people, one Riri Riley and a certain Sam Wilson. You might have seen Mister Wilson's face on the news recently, he has joined the Avengers under the moniker  'The  Falcon'."

Bitty gasped.  His predecessor was an Avenger? But more importantly, why was the AI  telling him,  Bitty, the superhero's secret identity?

JARVIS continued, seeming unperturbed by Bitty's shock. "Miss Riley,  meanwhile, has been an avid follower of your vlog since its  initiation. When it became clear that Mister Wilson would not be able to fulfill his role as an Avenger and also get up at four  every morning to commence baking,  Miss Riley told a friend of hers that  you would be her first choice partner to continue the bakery with.  Said friend, who wishes to remain unnamed, called in a favor he was owed by Mister Stark, and here you are."

The elevator abruptly  picked up speed, indicating that JARVIS had said his piece and was ready to deliver Bitty to his fate.  Bitty felt light-headed, and while he would have liked to blame it on the at least  ten meters the elevator was rising  per second, he couldn't quite convince himself. 

In no time at all, the elevator arrived at its destination and the doors smoothly slid open. A smartly dressed blond woman welcomed him with a no-nonsense attitude. "Eric Bittle?" she said. 

Bitty nodded mutely. 

"Welcome to Avengers Tower," the lady said. "My name is Pepper Potts-" and of course, Bitty had seen that face often enough on the news, but he'd never expected to meet her in real life - "and I have been charged with giving you this NDA to sign before you proceed to the kitchen."

She held out a clipboard to him which Bitty took a bit hesitantly. Looking up at her again, still somehow waiting for the other shoe to drop, he found her face now wearing a reassuring smile. "Don't worry, Mister Bittle," she told him, "the Avengers are a friendly lot, especially if you provide them with baked goods."

Bitty gulped. "The Avengers?"

Miss Potts frowned. "Didn't JARVIS mention that in his email? I need to have words with him and Tony... But yes, the Avengers.  You will be baking with Sam Wilson, aka The Falcon, and the Avengers will be acting as the Jury. Don't worry, you will be told all of their preferences to keep this a fair competition."

Bitty did not feel reassured. "And... if they don't like my baking?" he asked in a tiny voice. 

"I highly doubt that," Miss Potts stated bluntly. "But that is what the NDA is for.  We need to be sure we can let you walk out of here and not have you shouting our secrets to all and sundry. However, after talking to Riri Riley and having JARVIS crawl your vlog, we feel confident that you will make a good addition to the team, so to speak.  As such, it has been decided that  the bake-off may be housed in the Tower rather than at Tout de Sweet so you have all the space and equipment either of you may need to be on top of your game."

"That is... wow, thank you," Bitty managed, still feeling utterly confused.  He took the proffered pen and signed his name, barely taking in enough of the legalese to confirm it was indeed an NDA he was signing. 

Then suddenly he was standing in the middle of a spacious living room and a tall man with a wide smile showing a couple of cute rabbit teeth was stepping toward him with his hand held out to shake. Bitty took it a little limp-wristed, internally cursed himself for it and hastily firmed his grip, giving The Falcon a good, solid shake. The grin widened. 

"Mister Bittle, good to see you!" The Falcon said. 

"Mister Falcon," Bitty blurted out. 

The man laughed. "Please, call me Sam. If you're going to be working with my lil' sister, you'll be practically family."

"Then call me Bitty, please," Bitty replied on auto-pilot. 

"Bitty, huh? Not Eric?" Sam questioned with a raised brow. 

"Hockey  nickname," Bitty  explained, hunching his shoulders in expectation of mockery. 

None was forthcoming. Instead, Sam slapped him on the back, proclaiming: "Ah yes, Riri mentioned. You blog about that, too, right?"

"It's a vlog, actually," Bitty corrected. "You... you haven't looked at it yourself?"  That was bad news. What if the man was a homophobe? Bitty was quite open about his sexuality in his vlog, and obviously Miss Riley had no issues with that; but what about her brother?

"Well no," Sam admitted, looking a bit sheepish. "Riri said you're fantastic, that's good enough for me; I... haven't really had much spare time lately, what with the Avengers and everything."

"Sure," Bitty said, trying to sound casual about the reminder that the man standing next to him had recently joined the Avengers. 

Bitty was standing next to an official Avenger. In Avengers Tower. 

Oh Lord. 

"Which reminds me: So far, nobody has made the connection between Tout de Sweet and the Avengers, but it could happen, in which case your life might be in danger.  So, before you sign anything, I will ask you to give this a good night's sleep and some serious discussion with your nearest and dearest, alright?"

Bitty was once again reduced to nodding mutely. 

"Well, I'd do a proper interview and everything, but I figure actions talk louder than words," Sam announced, "so why don't we step right on through to the kitchen?"

Bitty nodded once again and followed  _The Falcon_ into the  _Avengers Kitchen._

The moment he set foot into the adjoining room, all of Bitty's hesitation fell away. "Oh my god, is that a Stark 2015?" He rushed over to the oven and ran admiring hands all over its surface. "It's gorgeous!" he proclaimed, then whirled around to check out the one adjoining it. "Stark 2020?!" he exclaimed. "That isn't even on the market yet!"

He turned around to find Sam grinning at him. "Yeah, I know, right? And get this: Tony  Stark  promised to provide Tout de Sweet with his latest creations if you take the job."

Bitty stared at Sam, knowing he probably looked like a maniac and not caring one bit. "Where do I sign?"

Sam laughed.  "Easy, now. Let's do some baking first, shall we?"

"Yes, let's do that, absolutely!" Bitty replied, nodding his head emphatically. 

And they were off. 

* * *

Sam made sure to keep up a constant stream of easy conversation as they worked. He'd said he trusted Riri's judgement and that was true, but he also wanted to get to know this man for himself who had managed to make such an impression on his partner. 

Sam wasn't a vain person, but he had to admit his pride was a bit dented when Bitty easily followed the recipe from the 40s for a cake that Steve said he missed intensely, and which  Sam had somewhat botched on his first attempt.  Of course, Bitty would never know that, since Sam's  second  attempt today was perfect, as well. 

Riri hadn't promised too much. Her quote from Bitty's vlog "I dunno. I enter a kitchen and just... pies happen?" was proving entirely accurate.  It seemed as though the small, blond man was dancing through the kitchen and leaving a trail of effortlessly perfect confectionery in his wake. 

He was also sweet, funny and so very obviously gay that Sam felt a certain protective instinct toward this innocent, fluffy little chick.  He ruthlessly suppressed it, but thought some of it might still show in the way he handed over  a fresh  jar of sugar before Bitty could  search for it,  the way he told him  _everything_ he had learned about  each Avenger's  sweet tooth, and the fact that he couldn't seem to stop himself from informing Bitty about where in NYC it was safe to go at night and where it really wasn't. 

Steve came in when they were maybe a third of the way through their baking marathon. "Oh wow, that sure smells nice," he commented, stepping closer. 

Sam offered him a freshly baked chocolate chip cookie, which Steve ate directly from his hand with a flirtatious look.  Sam felt his blood go south. "Steve, behave," he scolded.  "We have company." 

"Ah, yes," Steve said, straightening his shoulders and turning toward Bitty, who had been observing the exchange with a quizzical look. "Steve Rogers, pleased to meet you."

"Eric Bittle,  pleasure's all mine," the tiny blond chef  drawled in what was a noticeable Southern accent, holding up his flour-covered hands to indicate he couldn't currently shake hands.  Steve nodded with a grin and leaned back against the counter. 

Sam had noticed that Bitty's accent, very strong at first, had faded over time. Apparently, he had mostly trained himself out of it, but it came back at full force when he was nervous.  And hey, who wouldn't be nervous upon meeting Steve?  The man sure was a sight for sore eyes. 

Suddenly, Sam had an intense urge to  stake his claim.  Stepping closer to Steve, he used his currently clean left hand to draw the legendary hero into a heated kiss  that left them both panting. 

Steve's lips curled. "Didn't you just tell me to behave?"

"Changed my mind," Sam said. "Though I really do need to get back to my baking."

When he turned around, though, Bitty had stopped baking, as well. The smaller man was looking at them both with hearts in his eyes. "And here I was thinking that my sexuality might be an issue," he admitted softly. 

"Nah," Sam laughed, "Riri already told me about that.  Not that I would discriminate against heteros, you know, but it did count as a point in your favor."

"So you chose him for his stunning good looks?" Steve teased, suggestively waggling his eyebrows. Sam had seen the pictures of Steve before the serum, and he had to admit, there was a certain superficial similarity; however, Bitty was looking a whole lot healthier and less cantankerous, so really they weren't all that much alike at all. 

"Of course I did, I like my men blond and beautiful," Sam dead-panned. Then, seeing the panicked look in Bitty's eyes,  he hastened to add: "I'm kidding, I'm kidding! Steve and I are  of the swan persuasion \- monogamous," he explained at Bitty's blank look - "and I already know you have a partner."

Bitty let out a quiet sigh of relief.  Steve laughed. "See how the thought of you hitting on him scared him?" he teased. 

"I didn't mean -" Bitty blurted, but Sam waved him off. "Still kidding," he explained to their poor guest. 

Suddenly, Bitty's eyes narrowed. "Say, if you know that my partner is with the Providence Falconers, and you wanted me for the bakery... Did you have anything to do with the Falconers moving to New York?"

Sam looked at Steve, who looked back at him with  an identical look of dismay. "Tony!" they exclaimed at the same time. 

"JARVIS?" Steve asked, still looking at the ceiling when he addressed the AI, which Sam found kind of cute. "Did Tony buy the Falconers only as a joke to tease Sam or did he have further motives?"

"Mister Bittle guessed correctly," JARVIS replied evenly, "Sir bought the Falconers team  in order to motivate Mister Bittle to move to New York and apply for the vacancy at Tout de Sweet. It was a personal favor he owed some of the shop's regulars."

Sam had the sudden urge to slip into his wings and have a relaxing  flight to, oh, maybe Mexico and back to consider the fact that his life now included billionaires who bought entire hockey teams just to get a young college graduate to accept a job in Sam's bakery. 

Seriously, how had he gotten to this point?

Steve's hand on his chin gently closing his mouth anchored Sam back in reality. Looking at Steve, he once more saw the confused Finch he had taken home from Central Park,  and the wonderful man Steve had turned out to be. 

Sam's life might not be anything he could have imagined ten or even  two years ago, but he wouldn't trade it for the world. Even  if it now had Tony Stark in it. 

"Ooookay," he said slowly. "So this is one of those instances of Tony using large gestures to express friendship that everybody warned me about, is it?" 

"Yep," Steve said. "Like he bought that art gallery just to make sure they would display my works when I started painting again, completely ignoring the fact that if you force them to show something, it isn't actually an accolade."

"Urgh," Sam commented,  wincing in sympathy.

"And like he also recently opened a new branch at SI to explore alternatives to insecticides that will assure good crops without killing so many birds."

Sam was speechless.  "He... he did?"

"Yep," Steve repeated, looking both smug and embarrassed. "In honor of finches and falcons, apparently.  Even though neither of those cares for insects all that much." He rediscovered his own grin and beamed it at Sam full force. 

"Finches?" Bittle asked, and oh, Sam had nearly forgotten him.  Now grinning  as well, Sam started: "See, a few weeks back, Steve here got himself into a bit of a  finch,  er, pinch..."  He winked at Steve, who groaned, but settled in to watch as the two men resumed their baking while Sam told the story of how he had found a tiny, confused Captain Finchmerica in Central Park and taken him home. 

Sam hadn't told anyone about his ability to talk to birds in the past, but now that all of the Avengers knew he felt the catbird was out of the bag, so to speak; and somehow, he was entirely at ease with trusting Eric Bittle. 

* * *

Sam and Bitty had broken for lunch, then resumed baking until tea time. Now it was gone four and according to Steve, the entire Avengers Team had assembled in the living room to taste the goods. Bitty was still feeling a little nervous, but after talking all day with Steve and Sam, he had lost most of his initial doubts. Sam was an accomplished pastry chef, but Bitty could easily keep up. They had each baked the same confectionery separately at first, in keeping with the idea of a competition, but by lunch, they were already scooping  companionably from the same bowl of cookie dough,  then focusing on different pies each. 

Bitty was feeling rather confident about his chances at Tout de Sweet. 

Still, meeting the rest of the Avengers was a different kind of nerve-wracking. In retrospect, meeting the Falconers had been like a practice-run for this. Back then, they had seemed like these large, untouchable  celebrities \- and once he got to know them, it had turned out they were really just people. While Bitty still felt a slight awe directed at Sam and Steve  and wouldn't exactly refer to them as 'just people', their silly chirping - he felt so very, very chuffed at how appropriate  the word was for those two men - made them seem approachable and human. Despite the fact that one of them had survived seventy years on ice, the other could talk to birds, and both of them had been living as birds at some point. 

_I wonder if I'll be allowed to tell Jack about this,_ Bitty thought. He'd understand if they said no, but he really, really wanted to share this crazy story with Jack. Especially the bit about Captain Finchmerica chirping The Falcon. 

Bitty entered the living room on Sam's heels, each  of them  pushing a tea-cart filled to overflowing. The people gathered around the large table made appropriate  _oooh-_ ing and  _aaah-_ ing noises.  Bitty allowed himself a satisfied smile. Sam and he had done good work.  They started distributing their confectionery around the table and it all looked  _amazing._

There were a couple of millefoglies for Tony  Stark;  a big mountain of various cookies for Clint,  aka Hawkeye; an apple pie, which was surprisingly  the Black Widow's preference and not Steve's. For him, there were those  two attempts at the 40s cherry pie Sam had  found the recipe for  in  a friend's grandmother's collection.  Bruce,  whom neither Sam nor Steve had told Bitty much about but who looked as nerdy as he'd assumed from hearing the man often shared lab space with Stark, got  a dark, heavy cake called  _Death by Chocolate._ Sam said the man found the name hilarious and often  had the cake just because. Bitty had shrugged and  joined Sam in producing it.  Oddly, according to Sam the favorite confectionery of the Norse God of Thunder wasn't anything Nordic or particularly ancient; in fact, it could be found in every supermarket in America.  Despite his suspicions that the other man was  setting him up for a lark, Bitty had joined him in  manufacturing various home-made  pop tarts. At any rate it was an interesting new experience. 

When he put down the plate of  still-hot pop tarts in front of Thor, however, the  mythical Thunderer boomed his whole-hearted approval: "You have created a mighty feast, my young friends!" Then he dug in unceremoniously. 

"Thank you both," Natasha Romanoff said primly before smirking and shooing Sam and Bitty into the open spots between Steve and Bruce.  "Well go on, sit down and let's start!"

Sam sat down immediately, but Bitty reached down for the last tray he had finished while Sam was busy setting the table.  Producing a plate of orange-chocolate sticks  he had lovingly arranged in the shape of a nest, he set it down between Sam and Steve. "Congratulations on your partnership," he  chirped happily.

The entire table exploded in laughter. 

"You are so hired," Tony Stark pronounced. "Seriously, if Riri doesn't want him, let me know and he's absolutely hired as my personal chef."

Bitty hastily sat down and lowered his head to hide his pleased blush.  It was no use, though, and soon several of the Avengers were chirping him. It was... kind of nice, though. 

That night, Bitty traveled back home to Providence  thinking about his day. Surprisingly, he'd been allowed to tell Jack all about the Avengers, provided he made him sign his own NDA first.  One  question now was prominent in his mind: How the finch was he supposed to explain all this to Jack?

**Author's Note:**

> Please let me know what you think. Constructive criticism is always welcome! : )


End file.
